Mike's Arrival
by the unknown uploader
Summary: What was it like when Mike got on the Satellite of Love? How did the Bots react? DId Frank's hiney ever attend it's appointment with Dr. Forrester's towel? Find out in this epic Mystery Science Theater 3000/MST3K finfic!
1. Do Panic

This is my first-ever fan fiction, so naturally I'm putting my full effort into this. This story will be soaked in my blood, sweat, tears, and urine. After all, the show this is about is one of my favorites, possibly favorite overall. There have been many great fanfics about this show, and I don't want this to be the one that's considered the worst. So, share and enjoy. P.S. Cambot's lines are italics. Oh, and Mystery Science Theater 3000 and it's characters do not belong to me. They belong to their creators at Best Brains, Inc.

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Mike's Arrival

By Joey Waters

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Chapter 1: Do Panic

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"Do you think they're gonna send up another guy?" asked Gypsy.

"Well they're bound to," responded Tom in his usual pompous manner. He was in charge now, or at least that's what he said. He had what it takes to lead his fellow robots. Not.

"But until then, PANIC!" yelled Tom, as they all started to scream and flail around.

"JOEL'S GONE, WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?!" screamed Crow as his eyes and basket fell off, preceded by Tom's dome, as Cambot observed as usual.

Come on, thought Cambot, call. After what seemed like a few seconds, (because it was a few seconds) the red light on the panel started blinking, however this went unnoticed by Crow, Gypsy and Servo as they were too busy panicking. Next, Cambot switched the video feed to Deep 13, which then appeared on the Hexfield Viewscreen that was reserved for the Mad's transmissions.

Finally, thought Cambot, as he was now free to move about the ship. He looked at his fellow bots, as they panicked and panicked and panicked some more. I have to do something, the camera robot thought, something to help them out. So, with all of his might, the camera robot did something that the other three will never forget.

He started panicking, too.

"_Joel's gone, Joel's gone! Game over man, game over," _screamed Cambot.

So for a time that seemed to last longer than Rock Climbing and Sandstorm combined, the bots continued to panic, causing more of their parts to fall off. After about twenty minutes or so, they finally stopped. They just stood there, catching their breaths. (If robots had breath, which they don't. But you know what I mean. Unless you don't, then I apologize for the confusion.)

"Well, how about those Mallow mars, Crow?" asked Tom, remembering his golden-plated companion had mentioned that he had found where Joel had found them.

"Sure Tom," replied what was left of Crow.

"But first one question: WHERE ARE MY EYES! TOM YOU JERK, YOU STOLE THEM AGAIN DIDN'T YOU!" yelled Crow, obviously peeved with the fact the two ping-pong balls Joel gave him as the mechanical equivalent of the human eyes have now gone MIA.

"I didn't take 'em you nut, they must've fallen off, like your arm and that basket thing on your head." Tom responded.

"WHAT! MY BASKET TOO! OH TOM, CAMBOT, GYPSY, LOOK AT WHAT HAS BECOME OF US! JOEL'S BEEN GONE FOR A HALF HOUR AND THIS FAMILY IS FALLING APART! LITERALLY!" ranted Crow.

"You're right Crow! Without Joel, we're DOOMED!" _"DOOMED!"_ cried Servo and Cambot, as the three normally happy-go-lucky movie-riffing popular culture-referencing automatons started to whine and carry on and make a big scene.

Gypsy watched her three little brothers as they continued to blubber on and on. Now don't get me wrong, she was just as upset as the rest of them. It's just that Gypsy was more mature than the others, and she not only knew how to hide her sadness, she also knew how to calm down her boys.

"Come on guys, we'll be okay."

"No we won't," blubbered Tom.

"Who will tuck me in at night!" cried Crow.

"Who will feed my turtle!" inquired Servo.

_"Who will wipe my lens?" _whined Cambot.

"Boys, calm down," said Gypsy yelled, getting their attetion.

Then, in a gentle, soothing tone, she said: "Let's go to the repair room, fix you boys up, then we can have Mallow mars." "Okay, Gypsy" the others said in unison.

And together, they headed off to the repair room, the thought of a new human was the last thing on their minds.


	2. What Size Jumpsuit Do You Wear?

This chapter was fun to write. It took a while to copy the dialogue from Mitchell, but it worked out nicely. Also, I still don't own MST3K. It belongs to Best Brains, Inc.

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Chapter 2: What Size Jumpsuit Do You Wear?

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While all of this was happening on the Satellite of Love, trouble was brewing for TV's Frank down in Deep 13.

Frank stood there with a face of pure stupidity. He looked down at his keys, made a few gestures, and realized that the temp he had hired TRICKED him! A temp? Trick him, TV's Frank! It was unheard of; I mean he was used to it with Doctor Forrester, but by some dope from Wisconsin? There was no way Frank was going to let this slide; luckily, he and Clay had already planned on disposing of him.

But then Frank realized: He had just allowed Joel to escape. Joel escaped from the Satellite of Love, and it was his fault.

Frank was screwed.

He had to find some way out of this before Clay got out of the- "Nothing like a good shower to make one feel new, huh? I feel great! Nothing can get in the way of my good mood! So what's happening, Frank?" asked Clayton, walking out with a robe, towel, and a can-do-attitude.

Frank gulped, knowing that he would soon feel the fiery wrath of Doctor Clayton Deborah Susan Forrester.

"Well, not much. Inventory's under control. The floor needs mopping. Joel escaped from the Satellite of Love." Said Frank, knowing that it was easier to tell the truth and let Clay kill him rather than trying to hide it from him.

"Well that's great; I see you've got the situation in hand- WHAT! JOEL ESCAPED FROM THE SATELLITE OF LOVE!" Screamed Clay, making Frank nearly drop his keys.

Clay started typing on the tectronic panel trying to bring Joel back.

"I better get started on that floor," said Frank in a hopeless bid for freedom, only to be yanked back by Dr. F.

"Frank, my towel and your hinder have an appointment." Clay stopped typing.

"No, no! Joel landed safely in the Australian outback!"

"Let's just hope he lands on Yahoo Serious." Says Frank hoping to get on Clay's good side; not a chance.

"Well, that's a good point Frank- FRANK! WHAT'RE WE GONNA DO!" yelled Clay, shaking Frank back and forth as he did.

"Well, we could send someone else into space." Said Frank, realizing how dumb that sounded right after he said it.

"Who are we gonna find to someone to send into space at this late date!" Just then, in an event which is known for being the most convenient thing for one party, and the dumbest thing the other party had ever done.

"Could you guys sign my time card?" asked their temporary worker Mike Nelson as he walked up behind them.

Clayton and Frank looked at each other. They laughed. And laughed. And laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Mike, who already thought these guys were nuts, started to laugh to, in that if-I-laugh-with-them-they-won't-kill-me sort of way.

"You thinking what I'm thinking Frank?" asked Clay.

"Yeah, you're not gonna sign his time card are ya?" replied Frank. Clay made a face telling Frank to shut up.

"You gotta sign my time card," replied Mike, just wanting to get his card signed so he could go back to the temp agency and collect his pay.

"Of course I'll sign your time card young man; in fact, I think you'll be working with me for a long, long, time. Push the button, Frank," said Dr. F as he put his arm around Mike's neck, pulling him closer. Both Mike and Frank looked into the camera, deeply confused.

"Say Mike, what size jumpsuit you wear?" asked Clay after Frank pushed the button.

"Large I guess, why," Mike responded, waiting for Clay to let go of him so he could run out the door.

"Well, you never know when you might receive one as a gift, so I just wanted to know," said Clay lying through his teeth. He then looked at the clock.

"Well, look at the time; it's time for you to go. I guess time flies when you're having fun," said Clay. All Mike could think of was that this wasn't fun and that he could finally leave. Mike went over to the table to grab his stuff. He picked up some kind of gizmo thing, then looked at his time card and saw that his boss's middle names were Deborah and Susan. Mike couldn't help but chuckle at the fact the guy he and Frank were afraid of had not one, but two girl names.

Meanwhile, Clay "Deborah Susan" Forrester and TV's Frank were right behind him. Clayton, unsure whether this would be painful enough for Mike, looked at Frank. Frank looked at Clay, grinning, and nodded. After reviewing their plans, they knew this was the guy. So, Clay lifted up his over-sized mallet and hit Mike with it. Mike fell on the ground, because well, it's a giant mallet.

"Oh poopie, that wasn't hard enough!' said Clay as Mike got up.

"What was that?" Mike asked, rubbing his head.

"It must have been a rock, these ceilings are fragile." Lied Clay.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," said Mike, still rubbing his head. After a few minutes of Mike playing some catch, twirling records, all with Clay and Frank glaring at him, Mike finally remembered he could leave. So he grabbed his stuff and got ready to go. Then he realized Dr. F didn't spell his surname right. "Nelsorino." Yeesh, thought Mike. So he went over to Dr. F, who was standing in front of a blackboard.

"Say Dr. F, uh, my last name is Nelson, not Nelsorino," said Mike. He then looked up and saw a giant mallet right above him. It was the last thing he saw for a few hours.

"Frank, get in here and help me get this guy on the rocket!" yelled Clay as he tried to lift the extremely-heavy temp. Frank walked him and lifted up Mike's legs.

"Sorry Clay, I was-YAAHH!" screamed Frank, who might have pulled something.

"Lift with your legs, not your back!" said Clay.

"We have to get him to the rocket!"

"What rocket?" Frank inquired.


	3. So They Shot Him Into Space!

Wow, great chapter. So worth the wait. I still do not own these characters, or the show!

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Chapter 3: And They Shot Him Into Space!

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"The spare rocket we made in case Joel escaped! I never thought we actually use, since Joel liked being up there so much!" said Clay as he and Frank carried Mike through the door and into the lift they used to get in and out of Deep 13.

After like thirteen minutes, or sixty, I'm not sure how fast the lift goes, they arrived at the fake porta-potty they used as an entrance. Afterwords, they carried the unconscious temp all the way to the fake skyscraper they used as a launching bay.

"Gross," said Frank as they walked, disgusted by all the cobwebs and stuff.

"Here it is!" remarked Clay, "the back-up rocket Larry and I made all those years ago!"

"Do you mean Dr. Erhar-"

"DON'T SAY HIS NAME THREE TIMES!" yelled Clay.

"So this is it?" Frank asked. "My refrigerator is as big as this thing!"

"I know that, but it doesn't matter as long as he fits in there!" retorted Clay.

So the two evil underpants managed to shove the unconscious Mike Nelson into the rocket. They ran up the flight of stairs to the launch center. Clay turned some knobs, Frank pushed a variety of buttons, and the rocket's engines started. Smoke rushed out the bottom of the thing. "Countdown, ten minutes till launch," said a voice that sounded a lot like a certain stuttering, stumbling stayr.

Meanwhile, inside that rocket, Mike Nelson came to. He looked out the view screen (which right now acted as a window) and saw what looked like a Metilunion chauffer and a guy who just walked out of a Batman comic. It was his bosses.

"Hey what's going on?" yelled as he realized they couldn't hear him. He then saw a microphone. He guessed that he could use it to talk to them. He held the microphone to his mouth, pressed the button labeled "Talk" and asked: "Hey, what's going on? Where am I?" , although he wasn't sure he would get a response.

"You're in a rocket," said a deep, malevolent, familiar voice. Dr. Forrester, thought Mike.

"Ok, **why **am I in a rocket?" asked Mike.

"Because you're going to be my new guinea pig for my experiments," said Clay.

"What experiment?" asked Mike.

"The one where I show a normal man, like yourself, an extremely bad B-movie approximately once a week, and find out which one will rob him of his sanity. Then, I will force everybody everywhere to watch it, and in the chaos, I WILL RULE THE WORLD WITH AN IRON FIST!" yelled Clay, as he always did when he explained these experiments.

"Okay, well that still doesn't explain why I'm in a rocket," Mike pointed out.

"Oh yeah," said Clay, he to realizing that what he just said didn't explain the rocket either.

"Well you see the rocket will be the vessel that takes you to the place where these experiments take place, as well as your new home: The **S**tationary **O**rbital **L**aboratory, also known as the **S**atellite **O**f **L**ove, or the **SOL** for short."

"So, you're kidnapping me, launching me onto a rocket ship floating over Earth, forcing me to watch cheesy movies all alone?" said Mike, assessing the situation.

"Oh, you won't be alone. A-HAHAHAHAHAHAH!" laughed Clay, as he pulled the lever right next to him. This caused the building itself to break in half, allowing the rocket to fly off into the sky, breaking through the atmosphere that allowed life to exsist on this planet.

"WAAAAHHHHH!" screamed Mike, as the ship's hull lit a flame and the whole thing shook around like nobody's business. It flew around the earth, heading for a satellite that looked like a colossal dog chew toy.

"GET ME DOOOOOOOWWWWWWWNNNNNNNN!" yelled Mike, who had no idea the microphone was on, or that he was being watched by four robots, which in time, he would consider to be four of the greatest friends he has ever had.


End file.
